Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Nigeria and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Surgeon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Harmonia,
Cymande,
Silicon Teens,
U.S. Maple,
Peter and Kerry,
Delon & Dalcan,
R.M.O.,
The Misunderstood,
Severed Heads,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Avey Tare,
the Germs,
Scan 7,
Grauzone,
Livin' Joy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
X-101,
The Skatalites,
Hashim,
Jeff Lynne,
The Walker Brothers,
Gichy Dan,
Ultra Naté,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cluster,
Altered Images,
Ken Boothe,
Yellowson,
Underground Resistance,
Symarip,
the Swans,
Blossom Toes,
Faust,
Massinfluence,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Saints,
D'Angelo,
Blancmange,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lower 48,
Guru Guru,
Funkadelic,
Sugar Minott,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Amazonics,
Dave Gahan,
Alison Limerick,
Delta 5,
Minutemen,
Slick Rick,
Al Stewart,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.